All You Leave Behind
by Rated-R-For-Randomness
Summary: Fewshot... Church reservation? Check. RSVPs received? Check. Future plans all set? Well, not quite. I still have one last thing to do before I walk down the aisle... get over my feelings for Jeff Hardy.
1. Let The Wind Carry You Home

_A.N. - Normal disclaimer. I don't own the WWE and its Superstars. This story isn't going to be very long... only three chapters I think. It was just a little plot bunny that was circling around my head for awhile. Since "Confessions" is finally finished, I had a chance to get it down on paper. You can find the banner for the story in my profile. This chapter is mainly backstory but is needed. Thanks to everyone who reads and reviews. Peace and Love!!_

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I loaded up the last cardboard boxes into the truck. There were only a few more papers that needed to be signed before this house was no longer my family's property. My mother had filled this house with love and care for the past sixty years – the property being left to her by her parents. I didn't want to think about how many generations in my family tree had some association to this house. That's all it was now… the "home" had been destroyed the moment my mother took her last breath.

I slammed the back hatch door of the truck shut before making my way back up onto the porch and into my soon to be ex-property. All the walls were bare now, no furniture adorned the rooms. All it housed was memories that would never be forgotten, no matter how much I wanted some of them to go. I went from room to room, checking to make sure nothing material was left behind. The house took on an eerie quality now that everything was gone.

I turned the last doorknob and entered the final room – my old bedroom. I always called it a glorified walk-in closet. If you thought of the smallest bedroom you had ever seen, you would have to divide it in half to understand. The four walls seemed more claustrophobic than ever and it was now just empty space. I stepped into the middle – which was only a few small steps from the door – and took a deep breath. I was actually doing this. I was breaking the chain by not keeping this land in my family. But I couldn't – I wasn't strong like my mother. I couldn't bear to live here alone.

I never knew how my mother was able to handle everything that was thrown at her in life. My father was never home when I was a child. Business trips took him all over the world and away from his family – the ones he _supposedly_ loved. The whole reason I ever lived in this house was because of him. His job offered him a promotion, uprooting our family from our lives without any hesitation. It shouldn't have been such a huge move. But for an eight year old who was only concerned about her own social life, _it was_. A father who I rarely saw wanting to take me away from people that actually seemed to care for me? It was ludicrous and I kicked and screamed the whole way.

My grandmother took us in and this house became my home. I soon learned that the women were the glue that held the family together. Whenever I fell down, they were there to pick me right back up. It was a melancholy first winter when my grandmother passed away. My mother never showed me her grief, even though I heard her choked sobs emanating from her closed door when I went to seek comfort during the night. I never went in; just spent the time huddled outside of her door listening to her expression of emotion. And every morning when I awoke, she was just as cheery as ever – trying to keep up the illusion that everything was going to be alright.

And to tell the truth, _everything was_. My mother's love just shone brighter to make up for the loss. It was as if my grandmother's soul resided inside of my mother and helped her carry on. At least, that is what I believed at the time. I was only eight after all and needed support to keep me from spiraling into the depression that was always lingering. My grandmother's death should have been the tipping point, but it only made our family stronger. Well – it made my mother stronger in her everyday task of keeping this family running. And it made me venture out of my security zone for the first time. Thus I guess in a way it was a bittersweet blessing in disguise.

I was enrolled in a local private school (my absent father would have it no other way) that offered little companionship. I was hardly the best student as my head was always up in the clouds and full of outlandish daydreams. Eight years old and didn't fit in my social circle – I was doomed to a very lackluster youth. I had a few classroom acquaintances, but as soon as the bus took us on our way, the fragile bonds between us broke. I was once again the quiet, little blonde girl who sat in the back row. Yet my state of no companionship didn't last long.

On a cold, February afternoon, I was walking home from the bus stop. Since my home was quite a distance from the bulk of the other students (who actually lived in the county that the school chiefly serviced), the school and my family had an agreement. I was the first student picked up on my designated bus in the morning, which arrived a little bit after five. Yeah – for a girl who wasn't a morning person to begin with, these trips made me hate school that much more. Since I was the first stop, I was also the last off… but not at my home. _Oh no_ – that would have cost the school extra money that they figured was not needed. What was my hefty tuition fee going toward anyway? I was dropped off at the final stop in the county, which meant that it was almost a two mile walk to my actual destination.

At first, the long hike everyday was just troublesome. Sooner or later it became routine. Yet February was the coldest of the winter months that year. Even bundled up from head to toe in scarves, mittens, and boots did little to shield me from the winter wind. I tried to keep myself focused on the task of just making it safely home. Usually it worked but one day, all that changed.

I was taking my daily _stroll_ home and was right around the halfway mark when I heard some troubling sounds echoing from the woods nearby. I stopped to listen some more and was treated to loud graons and shrieks. I was just about to bolt when I thought about what my grandmother would want of me. Even at that young of an age, I knew that at times of peril, you should put others' wellbeing first. Besides, it really sounded as if someone was in danger. I took a deep breath for confidence and stepped into the thick, bare growth. There was a little snow and ice left from an earlier winter storm making the journey into the unknown all the more treacherous. But the sounds were becoming clearer and I got a renewed sense of gratification at what I was doing.

The sounds were also becoming more distinct. Mixed in with the moans and groans… was _applause_? I picked up my pace and walked up the small hill that was shielding me from the source. When I made it to the top, my eyes shined with the surprise at what I saw. There was a trampoline… and two boys were bouncing around on it – but not in a very playful manner. Flipping mid air and pretty much trying to beat each other senseless was the only rational conclusion my mind was making of the situation. My attention moved briefly to the side where a few more boys were cheering them on. _What was this? _

I continued staring in confusion for a few more moments, shielding my form behind a tree. It was quite captivating as I tried to figure out what purpose all of this truly served. Yet before I could even attempt to wrap my head around it, I was caught. One of the boys on the trampoline was sent face down onto the surface, facing my way. Our eyes locked and his mask of pain and suffering turned into shock. I gasped and quickly spun around, clumsily sliding down the small slope and back into the thick of the woods below.

I ran as fast as my little legs would carry me deeper into the woodland. My slightly heeled shoes offered me little support and it wasn't long before I was sent tumbling to the ground. I sat on the soggy earth, brushing the dirt and faint traces of blood from my now scraped knees. It was the damn pleated skirt and the stupid shoes fault… _stupid private school_. I fixed my bag on my back once more and continued, just this time not as hastily. No one was following me, thank God.

I found my way back to the road and continued my walk home. My thoughts however were still back in the clearing. I couldn't understand why I was so enthralled… maybe because it was so unexpected? At first, I would've sworn that someone was in trouble – in need of aid. That was the furthest thing from what I saw. It was as if…

My thoughts were halted – as well as my physical movement – when a bike blocked my path. I looked up from the pavement, where my gaze had been focused, and viewed the rider. It was the boy from the trampoline. His blonde hair fell in one of his emerald eyes, which were smudged with a murky color face paint. His white spandex clung to him, making his cream color skin stand out in relief. My eight year old heart did a flip in my chest… and I couldn't truly explain why. The boy had an unreadable expression on his face as he caught his breath and looked me over.

"Why'd you leave?"

Okay – that wasn't exactly the type of declaration I was expecting. But I came to learn that with Jeff, nothing was ever _expected_. I stumbled through the conversation, refusing to make eye contact with him. I slowly continued my walk home, he right beside me on his bike. Even when I had fallen silent, he continued to speak. He told me about his friends and that what I had actually bared witness to was a makeshift wrestling match.

The eleven year old boy offered me a ride that day – one that I never truly got off of until years later.

It became a once in a while occurrence; on my way home from school, I would find Jeff on his bike doing tricks in the desolate street waiting for me. This turned from random occurrence to weekly meeting to finally (in a few months time), daily ritual. It was official – I had a best friend.

Over the course of that first summer, I met the group known as Teenage Wrestling Federation. They welcomed me into the fold with open arms, especially Jeff's elder brother Matt. Being a few years older, he found Jeff interest in me to be cute… and also quite hilarious. I never truly knew what Jeff felt toward me, but I sure knew what my heart was feeling. Yet being a stupid adolescent just getting ready to celebrate the completion of my ninth year on the earth, I decided to hide my slight, ever-growing attraction to my blond haired crush. Well – not hide, just _displace_. And who was the faux objection of my affection… who else but his brother.

It gave me the chance to hang around the Hardy household and not feel so out of place. I was a girl in a land of men… _okay_, so at that time _boys_. Thus if I was caught daydreaming about a romantic future with the proverbial white picket fence and happy home, it was disregarded as a foolish crush on an older friend. And Matt didn't seem to mind. It was as if he found it cute.

The Hardy household wasn't our only hangout. My home was quite accustomed to the trampling feet of myself and Jeff as well. After the daily bike rides became of a fixed routine, my mother would have a before dinner snack already waiting for the both of us when we barreled through the door. It was during these times when Jeff would remark about how much my mother reminded him of his own, God rest her soul. And as the years went by, I began to believe that_ that fact_ was the reason for his constant visits, especially when he got a little older and became actually interested in dating. Damn teenage hormones… being three years younger than him had its obvious downsides.

These downsides became much more prevalent when Leslie came along. The name still got my blood boiling to this day. It was sometime during Jeff's early high school years and he became just as love struck as I was over him. By this time, my charade about have feelings for Matt was pretty much found out… by everyone_ but_ Matt and Jeff. And believe it or not, I was okay with it. I wanted to tell him… but then there was _Leslie_. His heartbreaking experience with her was the reason he began writing poetry. He was never the most outgoing guy, especially when it came to girls. I always found it cute that I was the only female he could seemingly hold a conversation with, but I came to realize that that wasn't a good thing. He didn't see me the same way he saw the others and it broke my teenage heart.

I never let it show – or at least, I tried my _best_ to mask my pain. I was never good at putting my emotions into written words like Jeff was. I always bottled all my feelings up. One of these days, I really will explode. The bitter emotions inside of me were quenched for the moment when Jeff came to me after the whole Leslie experience. We talked and talked… and yeah _just talked_ some more, but I felt closer to him.

I knew then that I was truly in love with Jeff Hardy.

I was only twelve and had found the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. When I confided in my mother about all I was feeling, she said it was sweet, but that it would pass. I only wished that she could have been right. She usually was, but this was one time when her words of advice didn't apply. It didn't pass… it only got worse – especially when he became serious about wrestling.

I knew that it was always his passion, but it was one of many. He would never say it, but he was a man of many talents (schoolwork being the only real exception). Art, motocross, poetry, wrestling… his interests were quite varied but shaped him into the person he is now. So when it seemed that he finally settled on a life aspiration, I wasn't all that convinced. But needless to say, I did support him.

His father on the other hand thought that both of his sons were making a mistake. He was being realistic and wanted his sons to have a chance at having a stable future. I mean, how many people actually make it to the big times in professional wrestling? For every Ric Flair or Shawn Michaels, there are thousands of nameless jobbers clawing their way to notoriety. This didn't stop either Hardy brother. It just made their story that much more inspiring. They achieved their dream with a lot of hard work and perseverance.

I was there for their climb to the top. From the backyard shows to the local high school to the trips up the East Coast, I followed them as far as they would let me go. Most of the times on their long weekend trips up the coast, I stayed behind and helped Mr. Hardy with any chore that needed to be done. It was my way of helping their cause and trying to make their father see that things could work. And they did… believe it or not, they did. Jeff and Matt, along with a few more of the rag tag wrestling crew from North Carolina, made it to the pinnacle of their profession – the WWF.

That was when everything changed. Jeff was starting an actual professional career and I was finally graduating high school. Yeah – at two different points in our lives, but the funny thing is that wasn't what caused the split. It just _happened_. He was always on the road and I was at school in California. We saw each other when he had shows in the area, but San Francisco wasn't that well travelled by the company. The phone calls became less and less frequent.

By the time the brothers won their first tag team championship in July of 1999, we barely spoke. Yet as fate would have it, I was home in North Carolina for the summer. When the brothers came back for a few days from tour, I was floored when I was the first person that Jeff visited. It seemed that maybe things would work out. We talked and made plans to go out with the old gang in celebration of their victory.

I spent the whole day planning what to wear and how to finally tell Jeff about my feelings for him. I spent hours running over the various scenarios in my head. But nothing prepared me for what actually happened. Jeff did find the love of his life that night. It just wasn't me. Once again, I had to watch him as he acted so shy and nervous around another woman. She was the one who started the actual conversation, but once he got comfortable, everything moved along very fast. By the time I left for my next semester of college, the two were a full fledged couple.

Since that summer, Jeff and I have barely seen each other. We just grew apart. There were so many times when I wanted to pick up the phone and call, but I could never bring myself around to seeing it all the way through. Something always stopped me… probably the fact that I wasn't Beth. He had her to talk to at all hours of the night now. He no longer needed me. And I… well, I moved on, I guess. After graduating from Berkeley, I went to law school up in Boston. I met new friends and tried my best to push aside the unresolved feelings that were still inside of me.

It worked for awhile until I tried to have a serious romantic relationship for the first time in my life. It only ended in disaster as I couldn't fully commit. I still had personal commitment issues stemming from more than just my past unrequited love. My father's treatment of both me and my mother left a lasting impression on my feelings toward men. Jeff was always the one exception and now that he was out of the picture, I was left trying to get over my own fears.

I finally did. It took some doing, but I found the perfect man. Well, maybe not _perfect_, but as close as I would ever get. And now, I needed to completely put all of these lingering feelings from my past _in my past_. I was getting married in a week. I had a future that was waiting for me… and it wasn't in Cameron, North Carolina.

I took my time leaving my old house for the last time. All of the memories that Jeff and I shared would be left behind and I just wanted to savor them once more. It was true – you never forget your first love… even if he didn't exactly return the affection. But that was all over now. I hadn't even spoken to him in years. I thought that maybe he would call when my mother passed a few months ago, but I was once again disappointed. I couldn't really blame him. We weren't close anymore and it couldn't have come at a worse time. He was still getting over his own personal tragedy. And hell, it wasn't as if I called him to say my condolences. I wouldn't have known what to say. I didn't know him anymore.

I made it to the moving truck and made my way inside. I turned on the ignition and took one last look at the house before backing out of the long driveway and leaving it all behind me. I drove along the road out of town in silence. My mind was still stuck in the past and this trip itself brought back so many more. This was the same route Jeff and I took so many years ago. Damn, why wouldn't these memories go away?

The desolate road stretched out before me as I slowly made my way out of town. Nothing was in my eyesight until a motorbike came buzzing down the asphalt from the opposite direction. The noise pervaded my senses as it blazed on by. My grip on the steering wheel became tighter and my foot on the pedal heavier. I needed to get out of this town.

Yet that became quite difficult as the same motorbike came back around, passing me illegally on the right and swerving to stop a few yards in front of the still moving truck. I slammed my foot down on the brake and the vehicle came to a screeching halt, a few feet in front of the offending bike. I looked at the driver and even with the helmet on I was quite aware of its rider. Even if I wanted to play dumb, the large tattoo encompassing his whole arm would have given it away. I pounded my hand down on the horn, hoping that he would spare me this reunion. It was the last thing I needed at the moment. He made no move to leave, just gestured his head to the shoulder of the road.

I held my ground for a few moments, but knew that the situation was hopeless. I sighed and put the truck in reverse, slowly backing up enough to get into the shoulder safely. He followed suit and parked right in front of the truck, pretty much anticipating that I would try and make a move to leave. He sat on his stilled bike and pulled off his helmet, letting his shoulder length blue tresses flow freely. I watched him silently for awhile, wondering what he was going to do or say. Nothing came.

I warily unlocked and opened the door, stepping out into the summer breeze. I slammed it shut and slowly walked over to his bike, keeping my eyes anywhere but at his own. Why was nothing ever simple? I stopped a few paces away from the bike and waited. There was no sound. He just sat. I looked up and saw his gaze fell upon me. The engagement ring on my finger became very heavy at that moment, even more so when his eyes lit up as if we never parted.

"Why'd you leave?"


	2. Blackbird, Fly Away

_A.N. - Normal disclaimer... I don't own the WWE and any of its "Entertainers". Thank you to everyone who has read and especially reviewed - **Hatter-Zombie, THE Cara Mascara, HardyxGirl, suspect tomatoes, RatedRCouture, BajanDiva, CarlyJo, -IDreamOfHardyz-, WWE Creative, SkyyRyder, and I'mxAxRockstar. **Thanks once more for your kind words as they helped get me over my slight writer's block. I have the next/final chapter all outlined so it hopefully won't be another long wait. Peace and Love!!!_

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Standing across from Jeff, my eight year old subconscious started to tug at my heartstrings. I knew that I should have just held my ground – tell him off and leave Cameron behind me forever. But I just couldn't… when it came to Jeff, nothing made sense. The words that I wanted to tell him wouldn't come out. I was reduced to my childlike state, staring down at the pavement to avoid his piercing gaze. I don't know how long we stood that way as I lightly kicked the gravel underneath my sandal. I wanted to face him, but just couldn't. He was too big a part of me to let him go. I knew in my heart I needed to, but I just couldn't bring myself to admit it yet.

Jeff's question continued to hang in the warm summer breeze unanswered. _Why'd you leave_ – did he have any right to even ask it? He was the one who truly left even if his physical address still stayed the same. I didn't hold it over his head or anything, but he made no strides at reconciliation… until now. Yet it wasn't only that fact that had me so shaken. All the memories that I had just left behind were trying to resurface. I fidgeted slightly as I stared down at my clasped hands, watching as the sunlight made the diamond set in my engagement ring come to life. It was a reminder of what I should do… of what I _needed_ to do.

"You look good."

My eyes slowly lifted from the glowing gem to look into the depths of his green irises. If I stared hard enough, I could see the young boy that I had fallen in love with almost twenty years ago. _Twenty years, huh? _Could it really have been that long? He sighed and turned to his side, seemingly frustrated at my lack of cooperation. I knew then that the only way I was going to get out of this situation was to talk to him, no matter how much pain it would cause us both.

"Thanks," I muttered in response, causing him to return his attention to my form.

He opened his mouth slightly as if he was going to reply, but no sound came out. He grumbled under his breath before tugging something out of one of his pant pockets. He gracefully opened up the crinkled pack of cigarettes and pulled one of them free as his other hand slid into another pocket revealing his lighter. He took his first drag while I was still trying to figure out what to do. As the smoke blew in the breeze, my legs involuntarily shifted backward slightly… I needed to leave. I wasn't ready for this.

"I heard about your mom," he said softly, breaking me from my thoughts of retreat. I flinched slightly at the mention of her passing and saw his face soften. "I wish I could've been there for you."

Deep down, I knew that he had many valid excuses for not being there. But the fact remained – he _wasn't_. He could've made the time to spare a phone call. His father had all of the information he needed to get in touch. But he didn't and no matter what was going on in his own life, it hurt to know that he couldn't even pay his final respects to a woman who thought of him as one of her own.

"Save it," I mumbled coldly, the emotions of everything that had happened the past few months making my anger grow tenfold. "I don't want your kind words, Jeff. All I want is to leave and get on with my life."

"Then what's stopping you?" he countered in an equally harsh tone.

"You?" I said with a bitter chuckle, but my answer only caused him to take another slow drag on his cigarette, shaking his head in skepticism.

"Maybe physically, but we both know that's not essentially true," he said with a small smirk twisting his lips upward.

It took all my power to stop myself from slapping it off of his face, but I knew that wouldn't solve anything. It might even just show him that I still cared about his opinion and our lack of relationship. So I continued to bottle up all of my feelings and turn the other cheek… more or less anyway.

"Don't even assume that you know me anymore," I said softly, turning away from him completely to look at the moving van behind me. "Besides, it wasn't like you ever cared about my feelings before."

"That's bullshit and you know it," he scoffed and I didn't need to turn around to see the frustrated mask that was most likely adorning his features.

"Actually, I don't," I answered as I slowly faced him once more. He chucked his still burning and barely consumed cigarette onto the pavement and glared my way.

"You were my best friend," he replied evenly, as he looked like he was trying his best to keep his frustration in check. It wasn't working all that well. "I knew you better than I knew myself at times."

"Now, there's a laugh," I said, vocalizing the thoughts that were running rapidly through my brain.

"Why do you think that?" he asked, his green irises becoming colder with every word I uttered.

I knew that this was the opening I needed. I could finally tell him all that I hid from him as an adolescent. I could wipe the slate clean and truly be able to start anew with no unrequited and unspoken feelings left buried. But I couldn't get my mouth to recite the thoughts that were in my mind. My heart wouldn't let me.

"Look – I'm not a little girl who needs your protection anymore," I replied, tilting the conversation back to the past. "That's all you ever saw in me… a charity case."

I knew in my heart that it wasn't true; that I was much more than that to him at one time in our friendship. But all of the feelings that I had left brewing inside me for so long helped distort the true nature of our relationship. Looking back on the past, even the simplest, purest memory had some taint of the ill feelings of abandonment that I would sometimes feel. We both drifted apart, and my subconscious didn't want to take any of the blame.

"Are you even listening to yourself?" Jeff asked scathingly, adding a forced chuckle as he tried to fully understand why I was saying these things. "Is this the shit you have to convince yourself of to get you through the day?"

"Maybe. I'm just having a really hard time believing our friendship was true to the meaning of the word," I said honestly.

I did believe that if we were truly as close as we both wanted at times to claim, this conversation would not be so bitter and forced. Things should have just flowed naturally like the formation of our previous bond. Jeff was about to interrupt, throw his own spin of my words back in my face, but I didn't want to hear anymore on the subject. The past was the past and I was trying to look forward to the future. I held up my hand to still his words.

"Forget it. I don't want to argue anymore about things that are virtually inconsequential," I reasoned with a sigh, signaling to my former friend that the bitterness could end if he would let go. "I just… I _need_ to move on."

I thought that maybe we were getting somewhere in a shared understanding of the situation. Yet Jeff's glowing eyes told me otherwise. He still had some more fight left in him. I didn't know how much I could honestly take.

"Oh yeah, my pop told me," he said, causing me to furrow my brow in confusion. He closed the distance between us and grasped my hand in his, raising it so it was directly in my line of view. I looked up at him and noticed that his gaze was locked on the glittering gem adorning my finger. "So… who's the lucky fellow?"

That one question was enough to get my seemingly calmed demeanor in a frenzy once more.

"Fuck! Stop sounding like you actually give a damn!" I ranted, ripping my hand from his and dropping it back to my side. "I am in no mood for you or any of your mind games."

"My mind games?" he asked in a rhetorical yet highly incredulous manner. "Maybe it is just my way of trying to process everything. You know, I've had a lot on my plate as of late as well."

The comment brought my hatred level for the man in front of me down a lot more than I would have ever deemed possible. Even though he was back at work, the memory of all that occurred must still be burned into the forefront of his mind. After losing all of your worldly possessions on top of the precious life of a beloved family member, I couldn't imagine how he was able to hold up. He must've been a lot stronger than I gave him credit for.

"Yeah, I know," I murmured, offering a small sorrowful smile. "You alright?"

"Hanging in there," he said with a slight shrug of his shoulders, as if he had answered the question many times before. "Making my peace with everything and trying to move on."

"I know the feeling," I whispered glumly as I had little to celebrate the past few months myself… besides my upcoming nuptials of course. I looked down at the ring on my finger once more and smiled sadly. Only a few days away and I would be a married woman – it was truly hard to believe.

"Then why are you leaving?" Jeff asked hastily as if he wanted to pull me away from looking forward to my future. "Cameron is your home."

"I've already come to terms with the fact that it is not," I said with a smile, turning my attention back to the blue haired man.

He scoffed and fidgeted in his spot, still only a few inches away. He brushed a few strands of hair out of his face, looking back toward the road as the first car since we began speaking passed by us. He shook his head and returned his gaze to my own, no longer truly bitter but seemingly overly annoyed at the whole situation.

"Your future husband convince you of that?" he asked in a slightly sarcastic tone causing me to roll my eyes in aggravation.

"His name is Alex, and no – he had no say in _my_ decision to leave," I replied, but the answer didn't faze him. It was as if he already knew what he was going to say and didn't care what my response was.

"Sure, whatever you say _Mrs_...?" he posed, his eyes gleaming as if he was enjoying torturing me so. It was like he knew about the feelings that I still held for him – like he knew that maybe the life I was heading for was not that one I truly wanted to lead.

"Reynolds," I said confidently, even though I could detect a slight waver in my voice. I just prayed he didn't realize because from the way he was acting, he would pounce all over it.

"It doesn't really fit you… the name, I mean," he replied, turning away from me and walking a few paces back toward his bike.

"Oh and what would you suggest?" I asked, knowing full well what was probably on his mind.

"_Hardy_ isn't that bad of a name," he said with a smile, turning back to face me.

"My crush on Matt has long since faded," I said with a shake of my head which only caused his smile to grow bigger. It was as if he knew something that I didn't want to believe he could have.

"Yeah, because it was pretty obvious that you never liked him to begin with," he replied evenly, looking from his newly procured cigarette pack to my shocked reaction.

_He couldn't have known… could he?_ Sure, just about everyone else knew besides himself and his brother – maybe his father told him. I couldn't stop my wide eyed and dumbstruck expression. He just chuckled as he pulled a new cigarette from the pack and flipped his lighter open.

"You knew?" I asked, stuttering slightly as he slid the pack back into the confines of his pocket.

"I'm not stupid," he said blithely, grinning as he brought the cigarette to his lips.

"Never said you were," I said breathlessly, just watching him and the smoke that hovered around us.

I didn't know why I was so taken aback by his claims. Maybe it was just that it made me feel even more naïve than I already deemed I was. Maybe it was that it hurt to think that he knew all along and just let me linger.

"But you implied it," Jeff countered, still grinning as he pushed off of his bike and came back to stand in front of me. "It was Shannon, wasn't it?"

"Huh?"

"I knew it!"

His grin grew even wider than I thought was feasible as he began to drawl on about how he always knew that my affections were pointed toward the younger blond. I let out an inaudible sigh of relief and halfheartedly listened to him recount the situations from the past that made my real crush blatantly obvious to him. It couldn't have been all that _obvious _as he was still in the dark, but I was not about to blow the chance that I was given.

"Look, as much as this walk down memory lane might be pleasurable for you, I really need to get over to the realtors and meet with the prospective buyer for my mother's house," I said, turning away from him to head back toward the moving van. I was halted when I heard the chuckling of my companion from behind.

"You don't need to do that," he said as I still kept my back to him and his obviously giddy demeanor. "I'm right here."

That caused me to spin around and stare disbelievingly at him. He just waved in a cheery yet mocking manner. I still couldn't believe it. This was just one of his pranks to try and get me riled up once more.

"You?" I asked pensively.

"Well, I'm sort of in the need of a place to stay," he said with a smile, but I knew all too well that that was not the full story.

"You're building a house!" I attested, as I heard of the plans directly from his father's mouth. There was supposedly a foundation poured and some beams already in place.

"Well… consider it a wedding gift," he said in a slightly sardonic tone and I was just happy that he didn't throw my soon to be surname in my face once more.

"I'm not selling the property for money," I told him as he took a drag on his butt of a cigarette, casting it to the ground when he was through.

"Then why are you?" he asked seriously, a tone that was lacking from much of the conversation so far. "You loved that place growing up."

"Exactly – _growing up_!" I exclaimed, trying to get through to him. "Things have changed and I don't want…"

"Some things may have changed, but others will always remain the same… your home being one of them," he interrupted. "You won't know how much you'll miss it until it's gone… trust me on that one."

"It isn't a _home_ anymore… at least not for me," I muttered, looking away from his stern frown.

"We'll see about that," he challenged as I watched him turn around and head toward his bike.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, voicing my confusion at his seriousness and now virtual departure. He picked up his helmet and pulled it over his head, lifting up the visor so I could still see his face. He straddled the bike and shot me a somber grin.

"Your _prospective buyer_ would like to take a look at the property, Mrs. Reynolds," he said drolly, fully settling himself on his bike and starting it up.

"Jeff – please, don't do this," I pleaded loudly over the revving vehicle.

"I'll meet you there," he shouted before flipping the visor down over his face and quickly pulling out of the shoulder.

"Jeff!" I yelled as he sped off down the road, toward the house that I had just vacated. I stood in the dust trail that he left behind and considered my options. "Ugh… Fuck!"

I hurriedly made my way back into the moving van and took off down the road. I didn't really want to end my time with Jeff this way, but if he was going to be childish, I would just have to go along with it. I looked down at my hand gripping the steering wheel and stared at the ring on my finger. I had a future to look forward to that had nothing to do with Jeff Hardy. I just had to keep reminding myself of that. In no time at all, I was back in the driveway of my mother's house.

"Jeff!" I shouted as soon as the van's door had slammed shut. He was nowhere in sight, but I knew exactly where he would be. I made my way into the backyard and walked up the slightly sloping hill. As soon as I reached the highest point, I spotted him, jiggling the combination lock on the old shack. "What is this all about?"

He didn't respond immediately. He didn't even turn his attention away from the rusted lock. He continued to pull on the unrelenting metal as I made my way down the hill and over to him.

"_This_… is to remind you of where you came from," he said hoarsely as he was finally able to unlatch the lock without the combination.

"Bergen County, New Jersey?" I offered jokingly, earning a light chuckle for my efforts.

"Cute, but you know that's not what I mean," he said, turning, and throwing the lock lightly to me.

I looked down at it fumbling with the dial until I imputed the combination that he obviously forgot. The spring mechanism sprung open and the lock was released the proper way. I looked up and saw that his attention still fell on me.

"_14, 31, 23_ – our birthdays, remember?" I asked, letting the useless metal fall to the ground.

He just nodded his head moodily and looked back to the door, lightly kicking it open with his foot. Some of the already chipping pastel yellow paint flew off the wood. He took a step inside the dilapidated structure before crouching down and beginning to dig.

"What are you doing?" I asked, even though I knew exactly what he was looking for. I took a few steps forward and joined him in the shack. And I thought our conversation was a walk down "memory lane?" This little excursion was going to surpass it by far.

"Digging up the past," he said, flashing me a smile over his shoulder. "Care to join me?"

I looked down at his stilled hands and saw the slightly unearthed paint speckled box. His fingers continued to lightly dust off the top layer of dirt, even though it was still firmly encased in the earth itself. I looked away from his smiling face and stepped back outside. I took a deep breath as all that I was trying to leave behind unearthed itself in my mind.

* * *

_Saturday July 18, 1992  
2:15 PM – Cameron, North Carolina_

"_You're supposed to be painting the wood – not each other."_

_Jeff and I both looked away from each other and at his older brother. He regarded us with a stern yet playful grin as he continued sipping his drink. It was midsummer and a heat wave had fallen over much of the east coast. As we spent much of our time outside to begin with, Jeff came up with the idea to build a so called "hideaway." We had already tried on his father's property, but were severely reprimanded when our attempts were discovered. Matt had told us it wouldn't work as both he and Jeff had done the same thing years before with similar results._

_The project was moved to my house with my mother supplying the wood and paint. The structure took the past few weeks to assemble with Matt and Jeff doing most of the heavy construction. Now, it was almost completed… a few more slats on the roof and a fresh coat of paint were all that remained. Jeff and I were in charge of the later duty, but were slacking at the moment. Some of the paint from his brush had "mistakenly" flown into my face and I was not about to let it go unanswered. _

"_Hey, it's not like I see you working," Jeff retorted to his brother as he swiped at me once more with his brush._

"_Lemonade break," Matt responded, holding up his glass and swiveling the ice._

"_Well…" I said, pushing myself up off the ground to go and get more paint from the bucket. "We're on a… a painting break!"_

"_You're 'supposed' to be painting," Matt said, taking the brush from my hand and holding it over his head. "Just not each other." _

_Having just turned twelve a few days ago, I had not undergone my hopefully not far off growth spurt. Thus my seventeen year old friend easily towered above me, making the paintbrush out of reach. I pouted lightly, but it didn't make any impression on the older Hardy. Jeff saw my slight distress and was able to obtain the brush holding it out to me. Of course, as soon as my fingertips went to grasp the wooden instrument, he pulled it away flicking more paint on me with his own brush._

"_This is never going to get done," Matt mumbled as I started to chase Jeff in an ill-fated attempt to retrieve it. We were halted a few moments later when Matt came and stood in his brother's way. "And you do know we have a show tomorrow and…"_

"_Blah, blah, blah. Great going, Nattie. He'll never stop now," Jeff replied with a laugh, dropping the brush into my paint speckled hands. "I'll never know what you see in him."_

_I watched as Jeff headed back toward our new hangout to paint. I could watch him all day and my staring didn't go unnoticed by his brother. He shouted over to his brother that I was planning my revenge on him for his successful paint attack. Fine, let them think what they want. I was the one who started this role playing anyway. I walked over to Jeff's side and dipped my brush in the bucket._

"_So… what do you see in him?" Jeff asked as I began painting. _

_I looked over at him with a small smile. I wished that there was some part of him that was jealous, but I knew that that thought would be silly. He was going to be fifteen in a month and already a mainstay in the popular circle of the high school. He had Matt to thank for that… well, Matt and the fact that he was serious about his love for professional wrestling. The two brothers had gained quite a local following of fans, finding the boys' passion and determination endearing. But at the moment, we weren't talking about Jeff… it was about Matt, the brother I was supposed to be in love with._

"_Well, he's polite… charming…"_

"_Are you sure we're talking about the same Matt Hardy?" Jeff asked, stopping my stammering. I whacked him lightly on the back of his head with my brush, before reaching down to dip it back in the yellow substance._

_The three of us continued working for the rest of the afternoon. There were a few instances of us slacking, but we were able to finish it… finally. We stood back and stared at it, savoring the accomplishment of having constructed it all by ourselves. It probably wasn't the most structurally sound building, but that didn't matter to us. _

"_We need to… to uh… christen it."_

_I looked over at my best friend in confusion._

"_And how exactly do we go about that?" I asked, looking back to the still drying structure._

"_Well, the usual way that one would go about…"_

"_Matthew Moore Hardy, I would hold your tongue if I were you."_

_The three of us spun around as my mother came toward us from the house. Matt walked forward and began to discuss something with her yet they were speaking in hushed tones and thus out of earshot. I glanced over once more at Jeff in confusion as he stood there with a goofy grin on his face._

"_Huh?"_

"_Don't worry about it, kid," he said, ruffling my slightly painted hair with his hand. I moved away and glared up at him._

"_I hate it when you call me that," I told him, placing both of my hands on my hips in a huff. He laughed as I pressed on. "You don't call Shannon 'kid' and he's a few weeks younger than me!"_

"_Shannon's my friend," he said hastily._

"_Then what am I?" I challenged raising my eyebrows slightly at his comment. _

"_Uh… something different," he mumbled, looking away from me and toward the slowly drooping sun in the sky. I would not relent on the issue however and came around to look him in his eye once more. _

"_How?" I asked with a curious grin. "'Cause I'm a girl?"_

"_Sure," he responded, patting me lightly on the shoulder before heading over to where my mother and Matt were standing._

"_I don't get it," I muttered under my breath as I followed him._

"_You will when you're older… kid."_

"_Jeffery!" I said swiping Jeff lightly on his arm before he took off in front of me. My mother and Matt turned their attention to us and shook their heads at our behavior. _

"_Alright, enough you two," my mother said with a smile. "Dinner will be ready in a half hour, so start cleaning up."_

"_But what about the christening?" I asked looking between my mother and Matt._

"_If you can find an 'appropriate' way, be my guest," she responded, giving Matt a pointed look before breaking out into a smile, turning around and heading back toward the house. "Have fun and remember – thirty minutes."_

"_What were you and my mother talking about?" I asked when she had walked a few paces away._

"_I'll tell you when you're older," Matt responded causing Jeff to laugh anew._

_Age was never really a factor in our friendships. Matt was three years older than Jeff, but the age difference was just a number to the brothers. Matt and Jeff shared common friends through wrestling. And Matt's older friends tolerated Jeff and accepted him as a part of their circle because the brothers were close. The three year age difference between myself and Jeff was similar, but chiefly because of the Shannon factor. _

_Shannon was Jeff's closest male friend and luckily a few weeks younger than me. Since the age difference was the same between myself and Jeff, it never was a big hardship. We all saw each other as not really equals, but companions and age was only a number. That however didn't mean that the brothers were exempt from making jokes about my age difference._

_The three of us decided that since we had spent the better part of our summer so far planning and working on the building, we needed to do something special. After some discussion, Matt came up with the idea of a time capsule of sorts… more like a memory box; put some items of importance to us now so that we could look back on it when we were older. Jeff and I thought that it was just that he was in a nostalgic mood, but eventually relented. Matt said that we could collect the stuff tonight and bury it tomorrow before they had to leave for their wrestling show._

_Yet he also came up with the idea of writing down where we wished we would be when we dug up the box in the future. That sparked Jeff's interest and he was quickly sold on the idea. Matt told me to just write down my dream job, saying that I was probably too young to really have any idea of what I wanted. I guess it was true and I spent so much time just staring down at the blank sheet of paper. I folded it up and considered just handing it in blank, but knew that my future self deserved more than that. _

"_What'cha writing?" Jeff asked, plopping down next to me on the ground._

"_None of your business," I mumbled, staring down at the slip of paper in my hand._

"_I'll show you mine," he said, wagging the folded sheet of paper in front of my bowed face. I looked up and he snatched it back, gesturing to the sheet in my lap. I shook my head and looked back down._

"_Too bad I already know what yours will say," I said. I think the whole population of Cameron knew what the Hardy brothers wanted to do with their lives... maybe even the whole state._

"_You do not," he retorted defensively._

"_Do too!" I said back in a sing-song tone which irritated him more. It was because he knew that I was right. Yet he still pressed on._

"_Do not!" he exclaimed and before I could respond, he pulled my own sheet of paper off of my lap. He got up in an escape attempt that was quickly thwarted when I grasped his jeans. _

"_Hey, give that back!" I yelled from my now kneeling position. He just smiled down at me and unfolded the paper, ready to read what it contained. His smile faded as he opened it up and saw the contents._

"_It's blank," he muttered bleakly, opening it up to me in confusion. I snatched it from him and fell back into a sitting position on the ground._

"_I don't know what I want to be in the future," I said, picking up my pencil and lightly doodling on the corner of the page. I heard Jeff sigh and fall down next to me once more. _

"_This is only for fun, Nattie," he said, as I looked over at him, watching as he picked at blades of grass before throwing them into the warm summer breeze. "It's supposed to be your dream anyway."_

"_But I just don't know," I mused distractedly, as my attention was fully focused on his slightly painted hands and the wind. _

"_You have to… you just don't want to tell us," he said._

_I pulled my attention away from him and looked back at the paper. I grasped my pencil tightly in my hand and got up off the ground._

"_Leave me alone," I exclaimed as I stomped off and back toward his brother. _

_I hastily scrawled down my response, folded it once more and threw it in the beat up wooden crate we had found in the garage. Matt looked at me curiously but said nothing. He put the lid on and slid the crate into the shed, just as Jeff made his way over to us. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pressed a light kiss to my cheek._

_All the bitterness I felt faded once more._

* * *

"You can't be in here."

Jeff laughed, standing so we were eye to chin once more. If I looked real hard, I could convince myself that we had transcended time and were back in 1992. My mind was still stuck in the past and everything around me felt so fresh… even the rotting wood looked pristine in my mind.

"And why the hell not?" he challenged, grounding me in the future for the moment.

"This is still my property and I am forbidding you!" I said, my hands subconsciously traveling to my hips in a defiant stance.

He looked down at me and his severe grin turned jovial. He reached out and ruffled my hair, just like old times. I couldn't keep living in the past… as much as my subconscious may have wanted to.

"You… you truly haven't changed, Nattie," Jeff said, using a nickname I hadn't heard in years. He attempted to pull me to him, but I fully stepped out of the structure once more and into the fresh air.

"Yes, I have."

"Maybe on the outside," he said, grasping my hand to spin me around to face him. "But some fancy clothes, highlights, and heavy makeup can't hide the girl you are on the inside – not from me anyway."

"Let the past stay buried… where it belongs," I said darkly, avoiding his imploring gaze.

He kept his hand grasping mine. With his free one, he cupped my chin forcing my eyes to lock with his. He wordlessly was trying to search for answers himself. The "Natalie" that he knew was not the one that was standing here and he wouldn't find her. She was buried deep within my own skin, but couldn't resurface. His gaze was pulled from mine as he looked over my shoulder. His expression grew even darker. I was able to squirm out of his hold and look behind me. My breath caught in my chest as I watched the newcomer approach us.

My present had turned into a head-on collision between my past and future.


	3. May You Never Be Broken Again

_A.N. - Normal Disclaimer... I don't own WWE and its Superstars. Thank you to everyone who has read, added, and reviewed. **WWE Creative, HardyxGirl, THE Cara Mascara, rainy-bobainy, Mistress-Adrasteia, Hatter-Zombie, I'mxAxRockstar, BajanDiva - **you all rocked my world with your reviews and I thank you. So here is the final chapter of the story (I did warn that it was just a plot bunny, didn't I?). But I am putting up a poll in my profile to see if anyone wants either this or my other previous wrestling story "Confessions" to have a sequel. I'm not sure if I will, but getting some feedback might help decide either way. So anyway, totally different point of view in this chapter with it being from Jeff's eyes. I hope you enjoyed reading, go vote if you want to see more, and love to you all._

* * *

I remember the first day I met Nattie. Even though it was almost twenty years ago, it is one of those moments that is still in the forefront of my mind – and I honestly don't know why. I think it was March… no, maybe February… whatever the hell month it was doesn't matter. What does matter is that it was _cold_ and a bunch of us were out practicing some wrestling moves on the trampoline. Practice makes perfect, right? Cold temperatures didn't stop us; they only pushed us harder. Shannon and I were on the mat at the time and I was in the process of setting him up for a diving hurricanrana. Well, let's just say that the makeshift ring post that we had constructed wasn't as sturdy as I believed and the move was quickly botched. Wasn't the first time that it happened and _certainly_ wouldn't be the last, but it sticks out because of the audience we unknowingly had.

I ate the mat hard and the pain that was etched across my face was as real as it comes. Even though it was just a flimsy trampoline surface and not a real hard mat, it still stung – especially when your bony best friend was digging his ass into your back. That was exactly my situation when I first laid eyes on her. The pain that I was in faded (at least from my features) and I looked at the young girl in surprise. She was young – younger than myself anyway. So I figured that maybe she was a friend of Shannon's.

But then she did something totally unexpected – she took off.

Shannon was trying to get my attention, but my thoughts were focused on the girl I had just seen. I flipped him off of my back and waved off the rest of my friends. My brother Matt tried to ask me what was wrong – if I was hurt or something along those lines – but I just shrugged him off and headed for the side of the house. I grabbed my bike and headed for the street. I don't know what possessed me to go after her… I guess it was just because it was so unexpected.

Girls and Jeff Hardy didn't really cohabitate well at the time. My mother and grandmother were the only two women to affect my life and I had yet to let another in. Once my mother passed away, there was a void. I still felt her all around me, but it didn't make up for the lack of her physical presence. I had my dad, my brother, my friends, but I missing that female component. Maybe it was because of all this that I was never good at talking to the other sex. Girls in my own class freaked me out which was probably a mutual feeling. So why was I chasing after someone I didn't even know… like I said – I don't have a _real_ answer.

But I am _damn_ sure happy I did.

I pulled onto the road and almost collided with her. She was watching the pavement under her feet instead of the road ahead of her. She stopped immediately, but took her time lifting her head. It gave me a good chance to look her over. I could see the tail end of a pleated plaid skirt peeking out from under her heavy winter coat… _private schooler_. Not something I was used to in my social circle, but it honestly didn't look like she was either. And all of this from a first impression… yeah, maybe I am stretching _a little_. I grew to learn that she hated going to the academy, but she would never take my advice on how to get kicked out. Probably feared the backlash that would come from her _loving_ father… more on that asshole later.

Anyway – back to our first meeting… I asked her a simple question and it was like pulling teeth to get an answer. She wouldn't even look me in the eye. She didn't seem to be paying attention to anything I was saying. I figured it was because she was embarrassed that I had caught her spying on us. And come to think of it, I never really learned what she was doing there. She said it was because she thought someone was hurt. I guess it makes sense. We were making a lot of noise and it could come across as hostile. But then why was she the only one to ever venture our way? Maybe it was destiny… or _maybe_ it was just that she was a curious eight year old who was looking for some companionship.

Well, she found some. It started off slow. Throughout the next few months, whenever my thoughts would drift to her sparkling blue eyes and bright smile, I would go out on my bike and wait for her on her walk home from school. She always acted so surprised… especially when my presence became much more frequent. She was still pretty shy, but that was a good thing, something I definitely needed at the time. She didn't notice my own shyness. Like I said Jeff Hardy and girls – _uh-uh_. Sure, I loved to look at them, but try and formulate a conversation and not sound like a complete idiot – impossible.

Nattie was always the one exception to the rule. By the time school was out for the summer, the two of us were close friends. We both had gotten over our own personal hang-ups and became almost inseparable. During my time of walking her home, I ended up spending some time at her place. I got to know her mother, met her ass of a father once or twice (when he was actually around), and felt like I was becoming part of something new. Nattie on the other hand had never met anyone from my social or familial circle. Sure, my pop, bro, and friends _knew about her _and vice versa… but that was it.

I knew that things needed to move beyond our private friendship. I was okay with it, but it really wasn't fair to her. So as soon as summer arrived, we split much of our time between the Hardy and Carter households… and _damn_ was there a difference. Everything at her place was so… so _warm_, I guess. Her father was hardly ever home (thank God). Honestly, I think in the whole time I've known her, he's spoken to me around a dozen times and most of the conversations weren't the most pleasant. And this coming from a person who was _always there_ growing up. On the flipside, Mrs. Carter was truly everything you could have asked for in a mother. What she ever saw in her husband, I will never know. When I would see her and Nattie interact at times, it caused some pain internally, reminding me of my own maternal situation. But honestly, I still _had_ my mother. I didn't want any other woman to take her place (just ask my dad about the girlfriend he had when I was young… _didn't end so well_). And Mrs. Carter never tried to step over that boundary I set and I loved her for it.

When Nattie and I would spend time at my house, the ambiance was totally different. There was no motherly influence, but there sure as hell was a father. My dad loved us and we knew it. He didn't show it all that much. That was just his way and I wouldn't want him any differently. He never was uncouth or cold – he was just stern and strict. Yeah… it's sort of hard to distinguish by those terms, but there _is_ a difference. My brother and I deserved everything we got. But I must admit that there was a noticeable temperament change in the man when Nattie was around. One look at her smile and my father would cave or break. Let's just say that she saved my ass countless times.

When Matt met her, he found my relationship with her to be cute. There was a six year age gap between the two of them, but he just took her under his wing as a little sister. And when she started to show signs of liking him in a not so _brotherly_ sense, I could say I wasn't all that surprised. He showed off around her because he could and fed off of her "enamoration." He liked getting the praise and attention of a nine year old. _Hero complex much?_ Yeah – that was definitely what it was on his end. On her end… I'm not so sure anymore. She looked up to him and we all thought that she had a little bit of a thing for him. She even _told _me she did. But as time went on, it got harder and harder to believe. Maybe it just faded – not all that surprising. This is _Matt_ we are talking about… just kidding. It just didn't seem to be completely legit, but it wasn't like she ever hid anything from me.

When it came to our friendship, there were no guidelines. We just took things as they came. We were different ages, different genders, seemingly totally opposites, yet we fit perfectly. Some of the best moments in my childhood came from just sitting around and talking with her. We would spend all night on the phone talking… fall asleep with the receiver still next to my ear on the mattress and have to explain an eight hour call to my father when the bill came the next month. Maybe that was another reason those chats were so hard to forget. She was always there when I needed someone other than my brother to listen to my problems, especially when I needed a more feminine point of view. I think that was the one thing that never changed – I always felt like I could talk to her about absolutely anything and I wouldn't have to worry about it altering our friendship one bit.

After Nattie became acquainted with the rag tag wrestling group that we were back in the day, our duo would occasionally gain a new member. _Shannon_… oh, Shannon liked her from the moment he laid eyes on her. He would never tell her, of course. He tried his best to subtly hint to her about his affection when he grew older. When he was younger, he was the cliché of pissing her off to show her how much he cared. She never got it either way.

I always thought that they would look cute together. And honestly… I think that she had a thing for him too. I don't know what she was so scared about. They were friends and she shouldn't have hid something that big from him. And I also had to admit that I sometimes felt a little jealous at the love I wanted to believe she had from him. She always saw me as the best friend and nothing more. Even when we grew of appropriate age – when the age gap grew smaller even though the three years were still in between. When you get older, three years is barely anything. I figured that out in high school when I began to develop a slight crush on my best friend. It was hard sometimes – hanging around her and trying to keep my mind on _appropriate_ things. I'm surprised she couldn't see it. Matt always teased me about it. We both said she had to be blind not to notice it, especially the summer after my high school graduation.

I had had a few relationships in high school, but nothing really stuck. The one constant was Nattie. After high school, when all those other girls faded into oblivion, she was still there. And when I finally thought I worked up the courage to tell her about my _not-so-new-but-still-unknown-to-her_ feelings, I couldn't. Why… I don't know. I always thought that it should have been easy because we were so close. I mean, I just said how she should have been honest with Shan if she had any feelings toward him. But… _I just couldn't._ I would look into her eyes and be mentally telling myself that this was the moment. Yet I would always chicken out. I just didn't want to see the rejection that I knew would be there. I couldn't deal with rejection from her.

So I never told her. I just buried the feelings. They are still there, I guess. Over the past few years – okay more like _ten_ – we haven't been all that close. Right after high school, Matt and I kicked the professional wrestling habit into high gear. We would stop at nothing to become the next World Wrestling Federation stars. It took a few years, but we finally made it. And when we did, Nattie was finishing up her final year of high school. It was like the three years became a vast gap once more. I had a career – a foreseeable future and she was just starting out. We drifted apart. We lost contact. She went off to college in Cali and I started touring the world. Wrestling was always a huge part of my life and thus a facet of our relationship. She always understood that it was a passion of mine and thus would do anything to help me achieve my dreams. And it killed me that she wasn't there for the whole ride.

When Matt and I first won the tag titles, we felt like our lifelong dream was beginning to fully come true. We were cementing our own place in the history of the business. It was our first major title and we were of course ecstatic. Some people don't understand how wrestlers can become so emotional and proud when they are awarded a belt because of the pre-determined aspect of the business. Okay, so we don't exactly compete truly "_competitively_," but we earn everything we gain. When you get a title run, it is because the higher ups have faith in you and believe in your abilities. Needless to say, I have tested this theory maybe one too many times in my time as a Superstar. So with all this in mind, our first reign was pretty sweet.

And it was even sweeter because Nattie was there to celebrate with us. She was at her mother's for the summer and as soon as I got home, I took the familiar trek to her place for a visit. Damn did she look good. _Those_ feelings were beginning to resurface, but everything just felt too much like old times. I didn't want to wreck it. We had a hell of a summer and I honestly thought that I was getting my best friend back. Yet after that summer, I can count on one hand how many times I saw her… actually maybe one finger. Our lives became too different and we couldn't hold on to what we had.

When my own life was spinning out of control, I would wonder what she was doing with her life. I pictured her surrounded by new friends with her arm around some Abercrombie type model living her life to the fullest. But honestly, I never truly knew what she wanted in her future. She had dreams sure, but most of them were the childish type that people grow out of. I never really grew out of mine, but I doubted that she could make a career as a real Disney Princess… well unless, she wanted to work at a theme park and I doubted that was her calling in life. She could probably do anything that she set her mind on and I wish that I could be a part of it. Not romantically anymore, at least I don't think that is what I want.

It is sort of hard to say you don't want something when you never had it. But I honestly can't complain about my romantic life. Beth is amazing. The night I met her was the first time that I truly could see another female in the same light as Nattie (well, maybe not exactly same but very close). In such a short period of time, we were dating and even a shorter period, living together. Her presence dulled the loss of my best friend. I found someone else. She could never fully fill what Nattie left, but it became a very welcoming replacement. Weird how when one relationship withered another one grew. Beth and I have been through hell and back in our relationship and we are still standing. I am proud of where we are today and do love her. But that doesn't stop my mind from thinking about where Nattie might fit in all of this. But after today, I am just too fucking baffled that I can't think straight.

And they call me an enigma?

For the first time in close to ten years, I saw Nattie. Her cute girlish charms had fully blossomed into a beautiful blonde bombshell. She would have even looked better without all of the makeup that adorned her naturally beautiful features, but to each his own, I guess. She was sort of how I pictured she would be – clean cut yet sexy, shy but with a bit of fire. She was just like I remembered in all of those respects. But there was also a ton of bitterness that I wasn't truly expecting, but it shouldn't have come as that much of a surprise. I had been absent for some of the most important times in her life and thus wasn't there when she needed me.

When my dad told me about Mrs. Carter's passing, I was totally blindsided. I hadn't heard anything from or about Nattie in at least a year or two. This wasn't exactly how I wanted to reconnect and it couldn't have come at a worse time. I was still adjusting to living at Matt's and trying to put the pieces of my own life back together. And instead of thinking that maybe we could have benefited each other's sanities by coming together once again, I did nothing. Dad went to the service – told me that she was a wreck. I could believe it. Her mother was her rock and without her, I'm sure she felt lost. But instead of going to her, I just pushed her pain aside and wallowed in my own.

But it became too much when I heard that she was selling the old house. I couldn't believe that she would want to leave Cameron willingly. I knew that it was finally time to try and reconnect with her. I contacted the realtors, told them I wanted to see the house and owner, and was heading to the meeting. We crossed paths and I wasn't going to waste another missed opportunity. Maybe it was a little crazed, but I needed to see her. And when I did, I lost the nerve to say all I wanted to. I couldn't deal with all her outward resentment toward me. I just lashed out. I wanted her to see my pain but also how much I wanted her back with me as my friend.

One thing led to another and we wound up back at our old hideaway. Countless hours were spent in this place – mostly just me and her talking about our lives. It was a place of our own, even if Matt helped with a lot of the actual construction. It would always be our place and I knew of all the history that it held – _literally_. We buried some of our material memories in the earth… don't really remember why but I am happy for it now. Yet before I got a chance to try and knock some sense into her, we were interrupted. I knew who he was the second I laid eyes on him - her fiancé. That was the other piece of information that my dad had supplied me with. My former best friend was about to become a blushing bride.

As he was walking toward us, I could almost visibly see the gears in her mind working. I don't think she ever dreamed that Alex and I would meet, but then again, she probably never thought that we would have had our own little reunion. When I pulled my eyes away from her, I got a good once over of the man she was about to join _in holy matrimony_. I guessed that the two of us were around the same height, but his frame was much more… massive, I guess. It's not like he was overly muscular or even remotely out of shape, he just had a natural athletic physique. Not exactly an Abercrombie model like I thought from Nattie's state of attire – he wore a tee and some ragged jeans. Brown hair and dark cerulean eyes... they looked perfect together.

With all that being said, I wish I could say that the guy was a complete asshole and didn't deserve her – that all of the handsomeness is just a cover-up for the person he is on the inside. But that would be a total boldface lie. I know first impressions may be deceiving, but he made a damn good one. There was no jealousy in his tone or demeanor when we spoke like I would have expected. When Nattie tried to rationally explain the situation and some of our history, he smiled and seemed genuinely interested. Even when she received a phone call that she needed to take and the two of us guys had some alone time, his attitude never changed. From what I could tell, he is just an all-around great guy.

He knew of my in-ring persona and accolades, maybe in due part to the fact that he said Nattie keeps track of what's happening in my career. Guess she failed to mention that, huh? I tried to find out a little bit about the girl I left behind… how she became the woman she is now. I learned that they met through mutual friends; his best friend is part of the law firm that she was interning at or something like that. He's a high school drama teacher, so at least I know that she's not marrying him for his money. But before I could dig any deeper, Nattie came back over to us saying that she and Alex needed to head out. _Something suddenly came up_… can we say bullshit?

I let her go… and it may have been the stupidest mistake of my whole life.

I watched them head back to the front of the house, waiting for a sign that the two of us were going to be okay. I knew that we had a lot of work ahead of us if we wanted to mend our friendship, but I was committed. Yet there was no sign… no wave of the hand, no glance over the shoulder – she just kept walking. I was disappointed, bitter, confused, and a bunch of other emotions that probably aren't named cause they are indescribable. She walked out of my life willingly this time.

Instead of leaving the Carter's property right away, I spent some time in our old hideaway. After a few moments of reflection – which mostly consisted of me sulking – I dug up and pulled out our hidden crate. I stared at the yellow paint speckled wood and smiled in remembrance of days past. It took me awhile, but I was finally able to will myself to open it. I didn't know if I fully wanted to let go of the past. I didn't want to fully lose Nattie.

I reached blindly into the crate and pulled out random wrestling magazines. Pro-Wrestling Illustrated… Inside Wrestling… oh, even the Top 500 Wrestlers from 1991 issue. It was funny to see that a few of the top names on the list are still around now and one having just retired a few months ago. Big celebration, maybe you saw it… yeah, I wasn't there. _Moving on_, right after them were a few of the old wrestling promotion posters that Matt had made. He really was the heart and soul behind our dream back in the day. He put everything he had into getting where he is. Not that I didn't, but it was easier for me being younger. I just followed him… up until a point.

There was more wrestling paraphernalia – figures, cardboard belts, pictures. Yet as I was shuffling through the old photos, I found a few that caught my attention. One was a Polaroid of the three of us on the day that the shack was completed. Nattie and I looked a total mess, covered in yellow paint splotches. Oh yeah – _our paint fight_… good times.

Flipped through some more and then had to do a double take. It was a picture of myself as Vanilla Ice and Nattie as Jem. For those who don't know Vanilla Ice, come on people – stop, collaborate and listen. I knew all those words back in the day; sort of sad, I know. And for those who don't know who Jem is, consider yourselves lucky. She was an old eighties cartoon character who Nattie absolutely adored. She wanted to dye her hair pink, but her mother threw a fit. She was only eight, but I thought it would be a surefire way to ruffle some feathers at her school.

I set the pictures aside for awhile, not wanting to fully get caught up in the past and reached in for the next item. It was her Little Mermaid doll. No clue what the name was, but I bet Nattie could still sing all of the songs from the movie. She used to drive me insane… and I would _never _admit that I found it somewhat cute. Fuck, for someone who would try and act mature for her age, she sure loved the doll. Matt and I had to practically pry it out of her fingers to get it into the box. I was surprised when I hit the button on the back that it warbled to life. Well… _not exactly_ – it sounded more like this mermaid had spent too many days under the sea.

I put the doll to the side and reached my hand in once more. I felt around and only retrieved three slips of paper. I remembered instantly what they were. I contemplated just tearing them up. They were written so the three of us could come back and laugh at how ridiculous our dreams were. I mean, we were just kids, right? What did we really know about what was going to happen in the future? Well, Matt and I had an inkling, but everything that has happened in our careers is beyond anything I dreamed it could be. Okay, maybe that was a little of a stretch, but it seemed like the thing to say.

After much debating, I decided to go ahead and read them. They weren't going to tell me anything that I wasn't supposed to know. I unfolded the first one and immediately recognized Matt's scrawling handwriting. _I wish for a long healthy life filled with love, happiness, and WWF gold. _Eh, two out of three ain't bad right? I unfolded the next one: _To still be living._ Yeah, I was a smartass, but it was where I hoped to be and both Nattie and Matt knew of my love for wrestling. I didn't think it needed to be written. That just left the final note and the most important. I honestly hoped that it had come true for her.

_In my future, I Natalie Carter, hope to marry Jeff Hardy._


End file.
